


This world has only one sweet moment set aside for us

by Rozilla



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Highlander (Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Highlander - Freeform, Immortality, Mayfly December, Past Loves, Sword Fighting, The Quickening
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-18 19:07:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2358998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rozilla/pseuds/Rozilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor is an Immortal, fighting for the prize against his brother. Fate has been cruel to him and will do worse when he falls for a mortal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I binge on Queen and then watch Highlander. It's purely based on the first 1986 movie- I never watched the sequels or spin-offs (I have vague memories of the animated series), but the first movie is a guilty pleasure of mine. I have a massive soft spot for Mayfly December romances. So sue me.  
> Also, forgive the rushed pacing, I just want to get it out of the way.

Somewhere in New Mexico, not far outside a small town, Thor checks in to a cheap, but clean motel making sure he was polite and considerate to the staff, earning himself a free cup of coffee and a meal brought up to his room. When Thor is alone, bidding the manager goodnight, he retrieves a case from under the bed, and sets off into the New Mexico desert night. He walks and walks, looking up to the constellations that shine brightly out, free from light pollution, onto the vast expanse of desert.

There are worse places to die, he thinks, stopping to open the case, perhaps Sif can see me from Valhalla?

It had been a long time since he had thought of Sif and it caught him be surprise when she still crept back into his thoughts. Loki had warned him many times about 'getting involved'. He hadn't listened then. He was glad he didn't, even this grief, not as raw as it once had been, was worth the memories of her.

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a sword being drawn nearby 'Son of Odin!'

He turns to see the figure, tall and blonde like him, but slightly built with a moustache and an Errol Flynn air about him. He remembers seeing Robin Hood upon it's release and thought the sword fights looked rather too flamboyant to be convincing.

'Do I know you?' Thor asks, pulling the long-handled hammer from the case.

'No, but your reputation proceeds you!' The man beams, flourishing the sword some more 'I'm Fandral by the way, it is an honour to meet you.'

'Likewise,' Thor nods, 'shall we get this over with?'

'Perhaps it's best we do,' Fandral sighs 'nothing personal by the way.'

'Good,' Thor takes up a stance and launches himself at the man. The blade is stronger than it looks, holding up against the hammer blows, as Fandral dodges and pares with the skills of a dancer. Thor has size and strength on his side, not to mention the hammer keeps Fandral's sword at bay. They continue, blow after blow, the thunder rumbling above their heads. The Quickening gathered around them, the air tasted of copper, of power and electricity- as they tire, their movements becoming slower, they become more desperate. Fandral lands one, harsh blow to Thor's side, but that gives him the chance to swing the hammer around and catch Fandral in the back of the head with a sickening crunch. He falls, lands face forward in the sand, twitching and choking. His fingers loosen around the sword- a beautiful piece of craftsmanship now that Thor looks at it.

Thor turns him over, allows him a last glance at the sky, the beautiful desert night-sky, before using the man's sword to sever the neck.

He stops, breathing hard, shaking and dropping both weapons to the ground as the thunder rumbles louder over head, lightning crashes down, lighting the sky above him. He feels the power of the sky, the roar of thunder and the heat of the electricity flow through him as the Quickening takes hold. The body of Fandral is tossed away in the commotion, but he doesn't see. He roars back, lion-like, his blonde hair a mane, arms outstretched as if in acceptance. The sky is a broiling, swirling brilliant mass of blue, green, red and sparkling light- and it's the last thing he sees before something hits him hard in the chest and knocks him to the floor.

 

When Earl Borson learned both his sons were destined to something great, something that would make them as gods amongst men, he and his wife organised a feast that lasted over a week. The oldest was named for Thor, the god of Thunder, and the younger was named Loki, two worthy gods indeed. The volva was not happy when she told him this news, but Odin didn't notice. Both boys grew to favour different weapons- Thor used a war-hammer, like his name's sake, and Loki used a dagger- both to deadly effect, no one would face them on the battle field, no one would fight them.  
Then both brothers were injured in a fight with a clan headed by Earl Malaketh and his prize mercenary- Kurse. The Earl was killed quickly, but Kurse was shot, stabbed, hacked by as many as a dozen warriors and he wouldn't fall. Loki managed to slice him straight across the neck- but the man did not die, Thor crushed the bones in his right arm, but he simply brushed them both off. He stabbed Loki in the gut and Thor in the side, before disappearing, taking the remaining clansmen with him.  
The two brothers were watched over day and night by the healers, most losing hope they would ever recover- but both brothers shook off the injuries and were on their feet again within two days. Odin declared his sons were blessed by the Gods themselves, that they were destined to be Einherjar. The feasting and accolades continued, but Loki was troubled.

'Thor, we should be dead,' he pushed away his food at yet another feast 'this is not right.'

'Why are you complaining brother?!' Thor bellowed 'We're favoured sons of the Gods!'

Loki shook his head 'I don't believe it. Something's... wrong.'

Upon consultation with a seer, he discovered the truth- he and Thor were Immortals. Thor born to Earl Borson and his wife, but Loki had been found abandoned on the battlefield and both were destined to fight for the Prize for many, many years. Perhaps both would end up dead by each other's hands. Loki tried to explain to Thor, who, as usual, was too pig-headed to listen. His golden brother would drink and fight and wench with little care- he never got sick, never suffered injuries for long- neither did Loki. When they were summoned to battle, the enemy saw them approach and ran the instant they saw the legendary brothers.

Soon the people of their village, and many nearby, began to fear them. Hate them. Thor was no longer welcomed in taverns and reacted with a violent temper that nearly killed five men. His father had no choice but to banish him.


	2. Chapter 2

Jane Foster drove headlong into the sudden storm without a second thought, her camera capturing the event as it unfurled and appeared to centre on an indistinct shape in the desert. Her friend/intern, a young rather sarcastically witty woman named Darcy, screamed and begged Jane to turn back, but there was no stopping her now. She could not have predicted this- she was expecting a subtle aurora, but got what appeared to be a hurricane of lightning and colour. The van collided with something- when they finally pulled to a stop, Darcy still screaming she was not going to die for six college credit, and saw what they had just hit.

The man she hit with her van not only got straight back up again, but refused hospital treatment, appeared to be totally fine anyway (leaving a dent in her van's fender), he simply begged to be allowed a ride back to town. He was dishevelled, wild-eyed and talking crazy, raving about a hammer, but Jane was far too wrapped up in the data that was making her equipment go crazy and the marks scorched into the sand around him to notice, or care, what he was saying. Darcy, truly freaked out by this point, decided to taser him just in case.

 

‘Get up.’

Thor’s head rang, his body ached and his mouth tasted of stale mead and vomit. He had no intention of getting up. Unfortunately, this stranger grabbed him by a handful of his hair and yanked him up and, before he could gather his wits, launched him at a wall. He was not used to being lifted, even the strongest man he had ever fought had never been able to lift him.

Through the noise and pain that rattled his body, he screamed ‘Who dares attack the Son of Odin?!’

‘Ugh,’ a voice came from nearby and he felt the press of a blade at his throat ‘such manners.’

He focused on the source of the utter impertinence and saw… a vision.

She was tall, with her long dark hair woven with leather that tied it behind her head. Her armour was practical, but tastefully designed and she wore leather breeches and carried a double blade spear that, now that he had a chance to think, he noticed was aimed at his neck.

‘Thor,’ she said, her voice honeyed and charming ‘thank God, if I have to search another disgusting backwater tavern I’ll be thoroughly sick.’

He tried to smile ‘Not living up to your tastes  my lady ?’

She cocked her head ‘You’re honestly trying to charm me when there is vomit down your shirt?’

He shrugged, tried to move, but stayed pinned to the wall ‘It’s worked before.’

She winced ‘Delightful.’

‘I am Thor! Son of Odin! At your service my lady!’

‘I gathered,’ she shook her head ‘you are in no condition to start today. No matter, I’ll get you washed up and we’ll make a go of it later.’

He looked hopeful ‘A go of it?’

‘Oh yes.’

 

'You're seriously hitting on me after I... literally hit on you?'

'Why not?'

The man's name was Thor and he appeared to be too handsome to be entirely real- tall, broad, blonde, big arms and bright blue eyes. When she showed her friend Darcy his picture, she stared for a good long moment before handing it back with a 'Damn girl!' She had never really been attracted to men like him in the past (well, not emotionally, maybe physically) if only because she assumed them stupid, shallow and arrogant. To her delight, Thor is not only built like a wrestler, but has the manners of a prince and the intellect to at least take an interest when she talks shop.

'What does an astrophysicist do?' He asked, over a couple of drinks at a decent little New Mexico dive.

'I study space,' Jane explained, trying to meet his intensely blue eyes and failing 'theoretical physics about space- black holes, stars, relativity and motion... that sort of thing. I specialise in wormholes, Einstein–Rosen bridges as they're technically known.'

'Sounds... amazing,' Thor smiles, it seems genuine 'how do you do it?'

'I drive out into the desert and use a bunch of my own home-made gear to collect data, then sift through it, write up papers and present them to the University who pay my grants.'

'I see.'

'You're not... bored? I know it sounds boring-'

'It's not boring Jane, it is important. You are brave and clever to pursue it.'

Jane's not used to people, men, taking an interest in her work.

'Um... thank you,' she can't help giggling like a teenager because holy hell is he beautiful and charming 'that's sweet.'

They talk for hours, she drops him off at the hotel where he's staying (resisting the urge to jump his bones there and then, but only just) and bids him goodnight, driving home feeling light-headed and giddy.

 

Thor’s face hit the sand for what had to be the fiftieth time that afternoon ‘Damn you!’ He groaned and struggled to get up.

‘You’re not concentrating, you’re too used to being the best and it will not take you long before you find out that you are far from it.’

‘None can best me in battle!’ He roared and staggered to his feet, lunging at her again ‘I am the Mighty Thor! I cannot-’

She tripped him and he was back where he had been; chewing seaweed fragments and pebbles again.

‘You are an idiot,’ she spat ‘and you are as good as dead unless you listen to me.’

He paused and slowly got up ‘I’ve made a good sport of it so far! You do not know me or my power! Why should I listen to you?’ He snarled ‘I do not even know your name!’ 

She raised an eyebrow ‘You never thought to ask?’

‘Then… I’m asking now, what is your name good lady?’ His tone dripped with sarcasm and it clearly got a reaction.

‘Best me in combat  good sir and I shall give you my name.’

He smirked ‘Well that should be eas-’

He felt the blows to his stomach and knee and he fell back once again.

‘How no one has taken your head is a mystery unto itself,’ she shook her head ‘I have a lot of work ahead of me.’

 

Sgt Coulson of the NMSP winced when he looked under the sheet ‘Yikes, that seems unnecessary.’

‘Gangland killing may be? I have Fitz and Simmons looking for the head so we can identify him.’ Detective May was gazing at some nearby tire tracks and scorch marks that left intricate patterns in the sand ‘This is the really weird part.’

‘This whole thing is pretty weird,’ he pointed out with a sigh ‘it had to happen to me.’

‘Look on the bright side,’ May laughed and pointed to the body under the sheet ‘at least you’re not  that  guy.’


End file.
